His Vengeful Tradwife

4. Maverick

CHAPTER 4

Maverick

I had been feeling guilty about working so much recently, so I was pleased to get the first weekend with the kids. Even though this case we were working on had the potential to skyrocket my career into the stratosphere, it was still important to me to spend time with my kids.

So that Saturday morning, Tallulah walked into the guest bedroom and tapped me firmly on the shoulder.

"Emmylou is up," she said. "I'll see you later. Call me if you need anything."

"I don't need help taking care of my own children," I said irritably, trying blearily to rub the sleep out of my eyes.

6:30 am? What the fuck? Is this what time Tallulah and the kids usually got up on the weekends?

She ignored this.

"Bye, Maverick. Have fun."

She kissed Emmylou and sashayed out the door before I could think to ask her where she was going. Although she normally dressed in picture-perfect old-fashioned flouncy dresses or gingham overalls for her channel, with very high and modest necklines, I noticed today that she was in a sleek, form-fitting white dress that hugged every one of her curves, rising up her curvy thighs, cut low so I got an eyeful of her overflowing cleavage.

And it looked like she had taken off her wedding ring.

Even I hadn't done that yet.

I felt a little uneasy for some unknown reason, but I pushed the feeling aside. It didn't matter what she was wearing or where she was going. What mattered was that Amanda was going to meet the kids for the first time and we were going to have a fun day at the zoo.

After feeding the kids frozen waffles and getting them dressed, we were just getting our shoes on when Amanda came over.

I was a little surprised to see her in a slim pencil skirt and high heels.

"Babe, you look amazing, but you know we're going to the zoo, right?" I asked, giving her a quick kiss.

"Yes, of course," she said, but I saw how her eyes darted around. "I thought Tallulah would be here," she hissed to me.

"She's not," I said shortly, and I felt that prickle of uncertainty again.

Where the hell had my wife gone dressed like that? She never went out like that. It wasn’t part of her tradwife image at all.

"No matter," Amanda said, smiling brightly at Gabriel, Seraphina, and Emmylou. "Let's do this, Maverick! Some women act like taking care of kids is hard , but that's just a lie mothers tell to justify their performance of antiquated maternal roles. It's really quite easy."

This seemed like it might be Amanda's attempt to get over her nervousness about meeting the kids, so I said nothing.

"Oh god, let's not take the minivan," Amanda said as soon as we got outside. "We're not those kind of people, Maverick. We're not the kind of people whose lives revolve around kids."

I was a little taken aback. Amanda had come over in her little sporty car.

"I'm not sure if Emmylou's carseat will fit in the back of yours," I said.

"We'll make it work!" she caroled happily, so I transferred the carseat and buckled all the kids in. It was a little bit of a tight fit, but it would work. Then I reached for the diaper bag, but Amanda shook her head.

" That’s not going to fit in the back; I have all my golf clubs there. And I don’t want to lug around a bunch of snacks all day. Plus, you know I'm not one of those status-obsessed women who has to have designer everything , including a diaper bag! I'm just so down-to-earth. I think that's why we get along so well."

"We do get along well, baby," I said, and squeezed her hand quickly, putting my doubts about the outing aside.

God, it was so refreshing to be with someone who didn't insist on such orderly and regimented trips. Tallulah had us waiting for 10 minutes in the car sometimes as she went through the diaper bag to make sure everything was there. Now, this was the life. Living in the moment!

At first, the zoo trip went well enough.

Gabriel, Seraphina, and Emmylou were thrilled to see all the animals, and shrieked with delight when I bought some food for the giraffe and it flicked out a long tongue, eating all the pellets in the bucket and dousing my hand with a healthy serving of saliva.

“Ew,” Amanda said.

I bought ice cream for the kids and let them ride the carousel several times.

This was going amazing! Soon, Amanda would be comfortable with the kids, and we would make our own little family unit, just me, the love of my life, and my kids.

Amanda looked like she was limping a bit, not surprising when she was wearing 4-inch heels.

"Next time, you might want to wear flats, baby," I laughed affectionately, putting my arm around her as the kids rode the carousel one last time.

She turned to me, her mouth dropping open in surprise. "There's going to be a next time?"

I chuckled again.

"Well, we don't have to go to the zoo every weekend! But I'm sure we'll go again. Why?"

"Oh," Amanda said, dropping her eyes a bit. "I was rather thinking that Tallulah was going to take the kids more."

My brows drew together, and I felt my stomach turn over. "What do you mean? These are my kids, too. I want to spend time with them."

"Of course," she hastened to reassure me. "I just thought--well, that Tallulah would have them most of the time and we'd, well, take them to dinner now and again."

I stared at her.

"What are you talking about? I don't want to spend time with my kids only at dinner."

Her brown eyes widened a bit, and she put a hand on my arm. "Oh--of course not. I love how selfless you are, Maverick. You do so much more than you could ever expect a man in your position to do for your family. That's not what I meant at all. Let's just worry about that when we figure out what the schedule is going to be."

Just then, the ride ended, and I had to hop up on the carousel to take Emmylou out of her secured toddler seat.

What on earth was Amanda talking about?

I had been looking forward to spending more time with my kids, and hoping she would feel the same way!

Maybe the zoo was just a lot for the first time , I reassured myself. Amanda had no experience with kids. She would get better!

I hoisted baby Emmylou onto my shoulders and we started back to the car But we hadn't gone very far when I started to smell something.

Oh, god, that was definitely shit.

I hastened my pace. We needed to get home now .

"I'm hungry," Seraphina complained as a foul funk began to invade and cling to my sinuses. "Can we stop at McDonald's?"

"You don't need McDonald's," I said, and Gabriel and Seraphina both began to protest this, but I had bigger worries as I felt something wet slide down the back of my shirt.

Fuck.

I pulled Emmylou off my shoulders and held her in front of me.

She'd had a huge blowout, all out her diaper and down her legs.

Which meant there would now be shit all over me.

Amanda shrieked. "What the fuck ?" she cried. " She's still in diapers ?"

"She's only two," I shot back, trying to hold Emmylou at arm's length, as my baby twisted and turned, smearing poop all over the front of my shirt too. "It's fine. We'll just get the diaper bag and clean it up."

FUCK.

Amanda and I looked at each other in horror.

"Oh, is that what it's for?" she asked.

"What the fuck did you think it was for?" I snapped, trying to keep my voice calm.

Things went even more to shit when we got back to her car. I didn't have wipes, paper towels, anything to clean either Emmylou or me up.

"I don't want my car to smell like shit," Amanda complained, as I ripped pages out of her car's instructional manual and tried to wipe Emmylou's legs off.

"Are you proposing to leave us here then?" I asked coldly.

She didn't respond.

"Are you proposing to leave us here then?" I shot at her, and she frowned at me.

“No, of course not.”

Great, I was only a few days into my newfound freedom and already fighting with Amanda.

Finally, I just put Emmylou in her carseat, cringing at the fact that I'd have to take the cover all the way off and wash the whole thing later.

We drove home in silence, only punctuated by the regular requests for McDonald's.

"Just give them fucking McDonald's," Amanda hissed at me.

Irritation sizzled through me, and I felt frazzled as fuck.

“Tallulah doesn’t let them eat in the car,” I said.

“Well, she’s not here now, is she?” Amanda bit out through gritted teeth. “You can do what you want.”

I wanted to salvage the afternoon, so we pulled over and I ordered three Happy Meals with cheeseburgers.

"I'm not sure what went wrong," I said in a low voice when Amanda had turned back onto the highway. "When Tallulah and I took the kids out, it was always quite relaxing."

Amanda shot me a frown. "I guess some women are just good at mindless tasks like this."

"You're the one who said it was easy!" I growled at her.

Then Gabriel threw up in the car.

Amanda shrieked in dismay, and I turned around to try to clean it up with more of the pages from the instructional manual.

"Gabriel gets carsick," Seraphina said, "That's why Mommy doesn't let him eat in the car."

Amanda screamed in rage. "She sabotaged me!"

"Don't be ridiculous," I snapped as Seraphina and Emmylou made loud fake vomiting sounds, too.

We drove the rest of the ride in chilly, unpleasant silence.

I thought the day couldn't possibly get any worse as I unloaded the kids from the car.

Then a huge pickup truck rolled in the driveway and my wife hopped out.

Tallulah looked cool, unpressed, turning to laugh over her shoulder at whoever was in the driver's seat. I heard the low rumble of a male voice as she ran her hands through long shiny auburn hair.

Fuck. Who the hell was she driving around with?

My wife sashayed over to where I was holding a giggling Emmylou at arm's length, trying to dig around for the outside hose with the other hand.

It seemed like she was taking a long fucking time on purpose, the way her hips swayed and that ridiculously tiny dress rode up her thighs with each step.

“What are you wearing ?” I snapped at her, but she totally ignored me.

"It looks like you are having fun with Daddy," Tallulah cooed at our baby, and then she looked me up and down. Just three measuring glances, flick flick flick . I looked at myself and felt my face burning as I saw the sheer extent to which I was covered with Emmylou's blowout, poop smeared from the collar of my shirt all the way down to my knees.

She flicked another glance over at Amanda and, instead of the jealousy she should have felt towards the other woman, my wife only gave Amanda a huge megawatt smile.

"Hi there, honey."

Amanda was bent over trying to scrub the throw-up from her car seats and she popped her head up. Her hair was sticking out in all directions, and I could see curse words forming inarticulately in her throat, but Tallulah had already turned away.

"Just coming back to get some flats for dancing," she chirped, then brushed past me.

I could hear her calling to Gabriel and Seraphina, making sure they were all right, and she took a moment to clean Gabriel up.

Then she was out a few minutes later, hips swaying as she moved past me without another glance and back to the truck.

I turned my head to see a man open his door and hop out to help her in. He looked like he was only in his 20s, big and blonde, wearing a tight T-shirt and tighter jeans.

He saw me staring at him and gave me a little salute.

"How's it going, boss?"

My vocal cords for a moment were strangled with fury, but he didn't wait for an answer, just grabbed my wife by her shapely hips and tossed her gently up in the passenger seat. Then he went around to his side and off they went.

The rage boiled up in me and my breathing sounded ragged.

Glad she was having a nice fucking time with someone's 25-year-old ranch hand while I was here covered in shit!

Unfortunately, I knew it was my own dumbass fault for not taking the diaper bag. I took several deep breaths, then gritted my teeth. I would do better with the kids. I should have known Gabriel got carsick. That was my fault, too.

After everyone was cleaned up, I let the kids play outside and then watch Bluey. Amanda and I sat on the couch with them.

"Who was that guy with your wife?" Amanda asked.

"I don't know," I said.

"Cheer up," Amanda replied, nudging me. "Maybe she was cheating on you. That way you can stop feeling guilty."

"I guess," I said.

We sat in silence.

It was barely 5 pm when the kids announced they were hungry again. And they said they wanted macaroni and cheese.

" Mom always makes the best macaroni and cheese," Seraphina said definitively.

Well, by fucking God , I was not going to let Tallulah win this one too. I had a law degree and was a very successful trial lawyer. I could make macaroni and cheese. Gritting my teeth, I pulled up Tallulah's TikTok channel, and I scrolled to her wildly successful Not Your Granny's Mac & Cheese recipe.

It had a lot of cheeses I was unfamiliar with, but I threw my fucking back into making this goddamn macaroni and cheese. I measured English marscapone, stirred in Balkan donkey milk, sprinkled saffron on top of it.

And when I presented it to my three children, they all made exaggerated gagging and retching noises.

"This isn't Mom's!" Seraphina cried. "She says this one is just for her brAND."

"Dad, there's raw egg on top of this," Gabriel pointed out, not unkindly. "I don't think you should give it to Emmylou."

"What is your mother's recipe, then?" I asked with exasperation.

"This," Seraphina said, going to the cupboard and getting a box of Kraft macaroni and cheese.

"Right," I replied, ripping open several boxes with my teeth, and scattering macaroni all over the counter.

By the time the kids had eaten, the kitchen was an absolute disaster area, with dishes piled high in messy stacks all over the stove and granite counters.

I didn't think my macaroni was too bad, but Amanda took one bite and said anything with that much cheese didn't really fit in her detox diet.

"Do you want to wait here while I put the kids to bed?" I asked. "We can watch a movie when they're asleep."

"I've got to wake up tomorrow morning early for barre class," she said, kissing me lightly. "But next weekend," she said, giving me a slap on the ass, "when you don't have the kids, we can really tear into each other."

"I'm going to have the kids a lot, Amanda," I said, feeling irritated. What the fuck was she even suggesting?

"Well, we'll see," she returned. "You're a busy and important man, Maverick. You don't have time to do this kind of domestic work."

I walked back into the kitchen and started doing the dishes.

Fuck . This wasn't how this was supposed to go at all. I should have been feeling happy to be getting divorced from my wife. Not frazzled and on edge.

And where the fuck was she, anyway? Why wasn't she home yet? How long could going dancing take?

She wasn't home when I was finally done with the dishes.

She wasn't home when Gabriel fell asleep. Or Seraphina. Or, finally, after much persuasion, Emmylou.

I changed into sweatpants and a T-shirt and I stumbled downstairs to grab a beer from the fridge. Sitting in the kitchen, I sat and drank it slowly in the dark. Then I grabbed another one. Although I tried not to, every little noise in the driveway made me jerk around.

It was almost midnight, for Christ's sake! Where was my goddamn wife?

I grabbed my phone to check her location, but she had stopped sharing it with me.

That made me absolutely fucking furious .

What if something had happened to her? When she came home, I was going to give her a piece of my fucking mind! She better turn her location back on.

When the clock hit 1 am, I started to pace up and down in the kitchen.

OK, I was going to give her five more minutes, then call the cops.

Something must have happened to her.

Then, finally, I saw the lights of a big truck turn in. I let out a shaky breath, then leaned against the counter, waiting for her to come inside so I could insist she turn on her location next time.

But she didn't come to the door.

What the fuck was she doing?

Then I heard it.

Low, breathy moans, stifled laughter, a deep chuckle.

I twitched the curtains aside, and saw, in the dim moonlight, the bright white outline of my wife's dress bunched up around her waist as she rode this farm hand in the driver's seat of his truck.

Absolute feral raging fury filled me. How fucking dare she come home and fuck this guy in the driveway!

I saw her hips grind forward and back, her movements slow and sinuous. Then I got a flash of red as her hair spilled over her bare shoulders, his hand dragging her tiny strap down her arms so he could bury his face in her ample cleavage.

It had been two goddamn days since I told her I wanted a divorce!

I clenched my fists together on the windowsill, fighting the urge to go out there and rip the door open and pull Tallulah out.

We had agreed to not bring anyone to the house overnight for now, so was this supposed to be her little loophole? Out in the driveway?

You have Amanda , I reminded myself, but it didn't do shit to stem the sheer power of my jealous anger, especially when Tallulah's hips began to grind down on him harder, those creamy thighs start to tremble. Fuck, I didn't know how this guy could hold out so long, because it was always sexy as fuck when she did that. I felt the windowsill begin to crack under my hands with how tightly I was gripping it.

Her hands tightened around his head, pulling his blonde hair, and I saw her plump pink lips open.

Oh shit, I recognized that face. . .

And then she came, groaning loudly and throwing her head back, baring her elegant throat to him.

"Yes oh god yes keep going please," she wailed and her moan dropped to low and guttural. I felt my cock twitching as the windowsill came apart in my hands.

The blood rushed in my ears so hard I thought I might pass out, and I had to count very slowly to 10.

She was going to come in now.

Once she opened that door, she was mine , and I was going to tell her in no uncertain terms that she was not going to be fucking random men in the driveway.

But she didn't come to the front door.

I yanked the curtain aside.

"Baby, want to go again?" he asked, and when I heard her little gasping, "oh yes," I couldn't control myself.

I ripped the door open and strode furiously toward the truck.